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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281734">The House on Heartbreak Hill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone'>1lostone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Halloween, M/M, Spooooooooky Halloween Fic!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:47:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick Grimes didn’t believe in ghosts. He didn’t believe in zombies, in witches, in ghouls, or in vampires. He didn’t think werewolves stalked the night, or creepy clowns ran amok killing misbehaving children.  He didn’t think people could tell the future, or cast spells, or any of that shit.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <b>EDIT:  I posted this late, and somehow managed to do so without the full ending!  OOPS.</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes/Shane Walsh, Rickyl - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Lost's Gift Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The House on Heartbreak Hill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts">jlm121</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/gifts">MaroonCamaro</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/gifts">TWDObsessive</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotr58/gifts">lotr58</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>**I AM KEEPING THIS FIC LIGHT ON TAGS ON PURPOSE** If you want, you can check the endnotes for pretty heavy spoilers. ** </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇</p><p>This fic is dedicated with all the love to<strong> Jlm121</strong>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/pseuds/MaroonCamaro/works">Marooncamaro</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive">TWDObsessive</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotr58/pseuds/lotr58">Lotr58</a> for being amazing while I took some time to get my shit together, for encouraging me always to write, and just because I love them.  <br/><br/></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>October 31st, 1981</b>
</p>
<hr/><p>Rick Grimes didn’t believe in ghosts. He didn’t believe in zombies, in witches, in ghouls, or in vampires. He didn’t think werewolves stalked the night, or creepy clowns ran amok killing misbehaving children.  He didn’t think people could tell the future, or cast spells, or any of that shit. </p><p>That’s why, when he got the note in his locker the Friday before Halloween, he didn’t think much of it-</p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b> <em>party tomorrow night, heartbreak ln</em> </b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>It was typed in a lowercase typeface. Nothing, in particular, stood out about it. It wasn’t signed, and a quick look around hadn’t shown anyone around ready to confess to some sort of trick. A party on Halloween wasn’t normally his thing, and he figured that it was just Shane trying something to keep the season alive or some shit, but a party was a party, and Rick was up for anything. It was senior year after all, and he had been waiting for all the cool senior parties since he was a dumb freshie. </p><p>That was yesterday.  Michonne hadn’t gotten one. Neither had Glenn or Maggie. It was weird, but Rick was curious. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do on a Saturday night except Chem.</p><p>Now, looking up at the three-story Victorian house, with its sagging roof and broken windows glinting in the faint glow of the streetlamp, Rick had to remind himself that he didn’t believe in all of that bullshit because frankly, this place looked spooky as shit. The porch had broken in places, and dark stains of long ago kids throwing god knew what at the door looked oddly like blood. The paint was peeling so badly that in the dark,  it was almost impossible to see what the original color had been. </p><p>Everyone in Cynthiana knew about the house on Heartbreak Hill. It had long ago become a thing of local legend. It was on a hill, overlooking the small Kentucky town. Back when this place had been a mining town, the house had served as the mayor’s home, before the mayor had apparently decided that people weren’t really his thing, and had killed a roomful of what had passed for Cynthiana’s high society, including himself, his wife, and two of his children. In the early Seventies, some historical society had come in and tried to ‘restore the place to its original grandeur’ and had quickly given up on the project, abandoning it in mid-renovation, leaving scaffolding and piles of lumber in random places. The lumber had long been stolen, but the scaffolding almost seemed to be a part of the place, adding to the oddness and spookiness.</p><p>Thunder growled in the distance, and Rick squared his shoulders, hitching his backpack up onto his shoulder.  He didn’t have much in it, a few beers, some Pringles, a bag of peanut M&amp;M’s because it <em> was </em> Halloween, and a flashlight, so it wasn’t too heavy. He cocked his head to listen, and didn’t hear anything: no boom box, no laughing teenagers, nothing to indicate that there was a real rager going on.  Feeling like a chump, he knocked on the door. </p><p>He glanced down at his Timex, putting it up to his ear to hear the tick from long habit, and the slightly glowing hands told him that it was a little after ten. </p><p>Thunder boomed unexpectedly, and Rick jumped in place, his heart damn near pounding out of his chest. He jumped again when the front door actually creaked open. A pale sliver of a face peeked out at him, and Rick tried not to look like he’d almost pissed himself as he awkwardly raised a hand in greeting. </p><p>“Hello? I’m uh, Rick. I was invited here?” His voice rose on the last word, making what was supposed to be a confident introduction into a question. </p><p>The door opened wider, and Rick could see the man who opened the door a little better, enough that it twigged a dumbfounded sense of recognition. The hair was longer, and a bit shaggier. The concert t-shirt was one Rick had never heard of, but the cartoonish cat peeked out at him from behind a plaid shirt. Both the plaid shirt and the concert tee had the arms ripped off, showing off muscles that Rick guilty jerked his gaze away from. Stonewashed jeans that were more hole than denim tapered down into a pair of plastic-looking Doc Martens that Rick had seen on Mtv and secretly coveted. </p><p>“Hi, Rick.” </p><p>Rick jerked his gaze up to the man’s face, his mouth falling open in shock. He knew that voice. “<em> Daryl </em>?!” </p><p>Daryl’s lips quirked into a slight grin, and he opened the door further.  </p><p>Rick barely noticed that it had started raining. “Oh man, I can’t believe it! I thought you were. . . you moved away!” </p><p>Daryl spread out his arms with a shrug of one shoulder. “I’m back. Come on in. Get the door behind you.” Daryl turned and disappeared into the foyer.  Rick, still not entirely sure if he was alone or not, managed to keep the little dance of joy and the goofy grin on the inside. </p><p>Daryl Dixon had been a senior when Rick had been a freshman at John Fitzgerald Kennedy High School. They normally wouldn’t have moved in the same circles, but Rick had broken his leg during football practice, and having nothing to do to fill his time, Rick had joined the drama club. </p><p>Daryl had been a stage manager- the acting wasn’t his thing- but the organization and set building had appealed to him. Rick had quickly found himself working with him during the fall production of The Importance of Being Earnest. The two had been, Rick thought, pretty much inseparable. Rick couldn’t believe that he was friends with a senior, and had been immediately into all the books and music that Daryl had told him about in his quiet, scratchy voice.  Well- they <em> had </em>been. Until Rick had fucked it up, and Daryl had. . . well. Rick didn’t blame him. Daryl had graduated and moved away, and Rick had figured he’d never see the guy again. </p><p>Rick moved forward, shutting the door behind him. Inside, it looked just as rough as the outside. Beer bottles and trash littered the place, and the smell of urine was pretty strong. Rick wrinkled his nose and followed Daryl through the second door. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the gleam of light further down the hall, and followed it. </p><p>The room used to be a dining room. A huge mahogany table had been pushed to the side, and what would have been very nice chairs were stacked up in an alcove between the windows. It was easy enough to see why this room had been chosen; it had a huge fireplace and windows that weren’t broken. Daryl, or somebody, had pulled large velvet curtains down to keep the fact that someone was hidden here, knowing that the light would have been a beacon, shining from the supposedly empty house on the top of a hill down onto the small town. </p><p>Rick looked from the mattress covered in blankets, pushed up against the wall, to the small table with the hurricane lamp. Daryl was crouching by the fireplace, feeding a small fire that crackled cheerfully.  Dozens of candles lined the old dining room table, burnt down to varying heights. A pile of books was neatly stacked by the mattress, and a few coolers were shoved back with a crate of dried goods. A camper stove was set up on the opposite end of the candles on the table. One chair was scooched up to the table, with a manual typewriter and a stack of paper plates and a salt and pepper shaker next to them. The salt shaker had been knocked over.</p><p>Rick frowned as he realized Daryl had been staying here awhile.  He set his bag down with a small <em> thump </em>, wondering again if he had been tricked somehow. </p><p>“I didn’t expect the company, but if you want, you can grab another chair. I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t think anyone would- that is to say, I am, uh, what <em> are </em> you doing here, Rick?” </p><p>Rick realized that Daryl looked a little nervous, and his shoulders slumped. Of course, Daryl hadn’t. . . invited him, or anything. </p><p>“The party?” Rick looked around the room, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. He felt stupid. “Uh. . . I think someone has played a trick on me or something.” He rummaged in his backpack for the note. “I was invited here. . . uh. Nevermind. I can go.” His face was burning by this point. Rick was humiliated at the idea that he had been so stupid, but even more humiliated that of all people, it had to be in front of Daryl Dixon. Rick grabbed the strap of his backpack and tried to paste a suave, cool smile on his face.</p><p>Unfortunately, he had never been suave or cool before in his life.  </p><p>Daryl took a step forward. “No, come on, you can stay. We can catch up. It’s fine. Here. Sit. Do you want some coke?” </p><p>Rick thought about bolting, but only for a moment. Instead, he nodded and kept his gaze pretty much anywhere other than Daryl’s stupidly handsome face. He sat down in what was obviously Daryl’s chair, absently righting the salt shaker. </p><p>The sound of a chair scraping across a wooden floor was loud in the room. Thunder growled outside, and Rick could see flashes of lightning even through the curtains. </p><p>“Are you. . . living here?” Rick blurted, then cringed at the awkward question. Jesus <em> Christ. </em> Rick heard the flick of a lighter, and looked up to see Daryl lighting a few of the candles on the other end of the table. </p><p>“Sorry, have to use the fuel for my stove. Hope this is enough light?” Daryl ignored his question as he lit the candles, the small flames casting weird shadows over his face. </p><p>“Uh. Yeah.” Rick realized his leg was jiggling quickly enough that it caused the flames to dance around, and made himself stop. </p><p>“Here.” The familiar <em> krrshk! </em> of a soda bottle opening caused Rick to look up just as Daryl placed the familiar red can onto the wooden surface, then sat down in the chair beside him. </p><p>Rick bit his lip, realized he was biting his lip, and stopped, taking a nervous sip of the soda. </p><p>Daryl cleared his throat. “I am not living here, but I am staying here for another few nights. And I don’t mind you being here at all, although, yeah, I think someone was pranking you or something because there is definitely no party here tonight. Just me.” </p><p>He smiled again and Rick felt his heart flip in his chest. That was. . . that was gonna be a problem. Rick thought he had gotten those feelings under control. He cleared his throat. “Why are you here? Back home, I mean.” </p><p>Daryl sighed. “Oh. . . well, that’s because of this place, I guess. It’s a long story.” </p><p>Rick took another sip of his soda. “You’re sure that I am okay to stay here? I won’t be in the way?” </p><p>“Nah. You can help me if you want. If nothing else, the conversation will keep me awake. I uh. I was contracted to come spend a week, here actually. It’s sort of an internship, I guess you’d say.” </p><p>Rick raised his eyebrows in question. </p><p>“Well, after graduation, I fucked around a bit. Did some odd jobs here and there, moved around a lot. Ended up in the midwest, then the west coast, then up in Quebec. . . all over the place. Started writing a few of my travels, and on a whim, sold them to a small magazine.”</p><p>“A travel magazine?” </p><p>“Not. . . exactly.” Daryl ducked his head so that he had to peek through his bangs. “It’s a paranormal magazine. <em> The Journal of Paranormal Investigative Exploration and Review. </em>”</p><p>Thunder crashed, and they both jumped. </p><p> Rick opened his mouth, shut it, and tried to parse through the Daryl he’d known with the Daryl in front of him now.  He raised one eyebrow. “You’re a writer for a... ghost magazine?” </p><p>“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ and met Rick’s gaze without a bit of shame. </p><p>Rick sat back in his chair, smirking. “Oh come on.” </p><p>Daryl shrugged. “I started writing about some of the spookier shit I found in my travels. Told ‘em about the House here, about what had happened to the family that lived here, and my editor was cool with paying me an advance for a story about my experiences. I’ve been here a week, and have a few more days left.” </p><p>“Met any-” he lowered his voice. “- ghosts?” Rick knew he sounded like an asshole, but come on. Daryl couldn’t really believe in this shit. . . could he? </p><p>“Mm. You’ll have to wait to read my article, won’t ya?” Daryl drank the rest of his soda. “You want the grand tour? Or do you want the story, first?” </p><p>“How about you tell me the story during the tour?” Rick grinned brightly and bent to rummage in his backpack. He put the snacks next to the stove and held up the beer. “What should I do with this?” </p><p>Daryl’s face fell- just a little, but enough that Rick noticed. “Oh. I can put it in the cooler for you if you want, but I don’t drink that stuff anymore.”</p><p>Rick blinked. Back during his freshman year, during all the cast parties, Daryl always had a cup in his hand with rum and coke, or a beer, if one of the other seniors could get it. He shrugged. “I don’t have to drink it either then, as long as you don’t care if I drink your soda.” He left it in his backpack, and grabbed his flashlight, turning and looking back at Daryl. Daryl had also stood, and they were much closer than Rick had anticipated. This close, Rick could see the freckles on his nose, and he realized that their heights were quite a bit different than the last time they’d seen each other. Rick had always been a little tall, and three years ago, he and Daryl had been roughly the same height. While Rick had sprouted up a few more inches, Daryl had grown into his shoulders, a good foot or so, enough that Rick had to crane his neck back to meet his gaze. Rick was very aware of Daryl’s bulkier body just barely in his space. </p><p>“I’m glad you’re here, man,” Daryl said.</p><p>Rick knew he was grinning like a complete idiot back at him. “I’m glad someone pranked me, then.” His voice had gotten low enough that he was almost whispering. </p><p>Daryl cleared his throat and took a step back, turning to grab a candle. </p><p>Rick’s face fell, and he curled his hand into a fist around the flashlight. Shit.<em> Shit </em>. He had to stop thinking like this. Daryl didn’t-- He wasn’t--.</p><p>“Uhh, okay, so if you want to follow me. . .”</p><p>Rick blinked hard and forced a smile. “Sure. Lead the way, Mr. Ghost hunter.” </p><p>Daryl snorted. “Okay, so you know I had a family connection with the man that killed all those people, right? So when I pitched the idea to my editor, she was all over it. My great-grandma was Amelia Dixon.”</p><p>“Ohhh, wild.” Rick took a deep breath. Everyone in this town knew the story of Amelia Dixon. She was the youngest daughter of the mayor who had murdered so many people. She had ran away and hidden in a closet while her father methodically killed most of her friends and neighbors, and whatever had happened that night, whatever she had witnessed had driven the poor thing mad. </p><p>“Well, you know the Dixons around here are trash, and that’s part of the reason I left. About a year or so later, my dad died, and one of the things Merle sent me was a trunk of old journals. One of them was Amelia’s.” Daryl pushed open a door and gestured for Rick to go first up the staircase. “We should start at the very top, and work our way down.” </p><p>Rick switched on the flashlight and started up the huge, ornate staircase. It creaked ominously. Between that and the thunder, Rick figured that a spooky story, even a bullshit ghost story, was pretty much par for the course.  It <em> was </em> Halloween, after all. </p><p>They were silent past the second floor, and up to the third. “Take a left, and behind that door there. We can start with the servants’ quarters.”</p><p>Rick nodded. “All right.” He followed the directions, and Daryl took up the story again. </p><p>“The journal was. . . well, it was pretty crazy. I don’t mean that to poke fun, honestly. Reading it makes me feel a little less than sane if I’m honest. Amelia was ten when all that happened, and she wrote that she received the journal on her birthday, September 22nd. The first few pages are just stuff about her day, her tutor, stuff around the town. She did talk about a nightmare she had, but you get the impression that she’d had it before. After that night. . . the writing is . . . it’s different. The fact that she still wrote in this journal is what I mean by crazy. Not her mental state, although there’s a lot of that as well. You can actually read as she loses her mind.”</p><p>“Shit, man.” </p><p>“One of the things she talked about constantly was THEMAN. She wrote it in all caps, all smooshed together.” Daryl’s voice lowered as they crossed the narrow, creaking hallway. There were four doors, one of which was ripped off. Two others were open, and one at the far end of the hallway, past a hole in the floor, was shut. The tiny rooms had very little light, and there were very obvious holes in the roof, leaking through the attic and down into these quarters if the smell was any indication. The rain pattered through, and the two of them stopped on the landing so that they wouldn’t get wet. A gust of wind caused the little flame on Daryl’s candle to flicker out. “Fuck me. Hey. Let me see your flashlight.” </p><p>Rick passed it over, blinking a little owlishly at the ‘fuck me.’ If he’d had a nickel for every time he’d. . .</p><p>Rick cleared his throat. </p><p>Daryl had pulled a small red book out of his back pocket. He used Rick’s flashlight and flipped to a small, marked page. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“‘-can hear THEMAN, thudding thudding ever thudding a heartbeat that comes to kill, to keep, to silent my own breaths. I like it here, no one can see me as I hide and he seeks, as he gets closer to finding finding ever finding my--’ She describes him as a long skinny shadow with an upside-down face that screams with a hundred sharp tee-.”</p>
</blockquote><p>All three doors slammed shut with an echoing <b>BANG</b>. Rick was ashamed of the yip of shock he made as he whirled towards the noise.  Daryl’s hand tightened on his forearm. Both of them stood there in shock for a moment, listening in that way people did when their hearts were thudding in their chests. </p><p>A small, scurrying sound caused Daryl to flinch back from the door. “Oh ugh. Rats. I <em> hate </em> rats.”  He cleared his throat and cast the light around. Rick swore that he saw something slide away from the light, but when he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them to check again, nothing was there. </p><p>Daryl sucked his teeth. The flashlight bobbed a bit as Daryl tried to juggle the little book and the flashlight. “So, Er. As I was saying. . .” He flipped back to a page. Rick could see the tiny, cramped writing. It looked as though whoever the author was had written as much as possible, using all the space available on the page. “Where was I? Oh. A long, skinny shadow with an upside-down face that screams with a hundred sharp teeth.”</p><p>Rick scoffed, raising both eyebrows. “The Man is a skinny dude with teeth and an upside-down Halloween mask?” </p><p>Daryl looked up from the book. “Ha. Cute. Actually- the ‘upside-down face’ dates back to a creepy little story back in the fifties. A small town in Washington where a girl killed and cut off the face of another girl and ended up wearing it like a--”</p><p>A crash of thunder caused them both to jump.  A horrible, grinding sound began to echo through the cramped space. </p><p>“What’s that?” </p><p>A series of loud bangs started echoing from the other end of the hallway, moving forward towards the two of them. It sounded like the doors opening, then banging shut, as though someone was slamming against the door from the inside.</p><p>“Nevermind that, what the fuck is <em> that </em>?” Daryl cast the flashlight towards the sound. </p><p>“Uh. I think we--”</p><p>“Rick!<em> Look out!! </em>” </p><p>Rick only had the barest instant of a moment before the slinky shadow put off from the flashlight seemed to. . . <em> ooze </em> towards him. Rick dropped the candle as two long skinny appendages slid slowly across the grey, filthy walls.  Icy claws pricked against the bare skin of his forearm, and something <em> yanked. </em> </p><p>Rick gasped as the sharp bite of pain against the skin of his arm, and he flailed a bit, trying to pull away from whatever had him.  Daryl pulled on his other side, and the two of them sprinted down the skinny staircase, their feet clattering on the partially rotten wood. Rick had curled his arm towards himself, protectively. Whatever had sliced him up had hurt enough that it stung like a bitch. </p><p>The wind blew through the house again, bringing the smell of rain and rotten leaves. The bangs came again, only this time the grinding sound was louder. </p><p>Daryl ran and Rick followed blindly, turning left and then through what looked like a Jack and Jill bathroom, to another bedroom. Daryl slammed the door shut, and they stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide as they listened. </p><p>The grinding sound was accompanied by a low, chuckling laugh and Rick felt gooseflesh break out on his arms as he stared with wide, frightened eyes into Daryl’s equally freaked out face. </p><p>“Here. The dresser.” </p><p>Rick nodded, and the two of them pushed the heavy dresser against the door.  </p><p>“Oh no,” Daryl whispered as he turned to look around. </p><p>Rick‘s heart was beating so loudly that he could barely hear him. He had questions- Jesus <em> fuck </em> did he have questions- but he couldn’t make his mouth work. </p><p>Eyes stared back at him, glinting malevolently in the flashes of lightning from the broken window. A shutter had closed and it appeared that most of the weather had been kept out, but the window seat, that Rick could imagine had once been covered with fine velvets and comfortable pillows, was encased in a mold that had spread onto the wooden floor in front of the window. The window seat was covered with dolls, slumped, and disheveled from the pass of time. </p><p>“This is her room.” The bed had collapsed in on itself and an armoire hung open in the very back of the room. It wasn’t hard to imagine a small, terrified child huddling in the back corner, hoping that the monster out there wasn’t real. </p><p>Daryl swore under his breath, testing the wet, moldy floor by the window with his foot. He turned to Rick. “I think--”</p><p>The door behind the dresser shuddered, as though something had flung itself against it. </p><p>Rick pressed his hand to his chest, shivering, backing away from the door until his back was flush against Daryl’s front. Daryl had switched his grip on the flashlight so that he was holding it like a weapon, and angled himself so that he was in-between the door and Rick. </p><p>Crash<em> thump </em> . Crash <em> thump </em> . Crash <b> <em>thump</em> </b>.</p><p>Rick watched the door move slightly with the pressure of whatever was moving against the other side. His heart rabbitted in his chest, and he was pretty sure he had bitten clean through his lip.</p><p>A hush of silence fell, somehow louder than whatever was against the door. </p><p>Then-</p><p>A laugh. </p><p>Not a scary laugh, but the sound of several voices laughing together.  Daryl sprung away from Rick and shoved the dresser aside with an angry movement of one shoulder.  The door creaked open, and Rick cringed away from what he saw. </p><p>“Aw, shit, Rick. Your <em> face </em>, man! We got ‘im good, huh Daryl?” </p><p>Shane. And. . . Daryl? </p><p>Rick <em> ran </em>. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He made it about half a mile before the absolute fucking fury of what they’d done hit him. Rick wasn’t normally a guy that would swing first and ask questions later, but after he’d blindly panicked at the realization that Daryl had been a part of the trick played on him, his mad took over. </p><p>Rick stopped, realizing that the neighborhood was flooded with trick-or-treaters in cheap, plastic masks only when he had almost taken out a stray Care Bear like a bowling ball hitting the last pin. The costumed kid called him a name that Rick was pretty sure Funshine Bear had never said in its life, and the weirdness of it all caused him to turn around, staring up at the House on Heartbreak Hill with eyes narrowed in something very close to hate. </p><p>No. Fuck that. He was <em> not </em> some dumb kid anymore, and he wasn’t going to just let those two pieces of shit walk all over him like that. The sweat from his mad dash down the hill stung the deep scratches on his arm, and that pissed him off more as he tugged down his long-sleeved henley. </p><p>He started walking back, his mind filled with a strange static. He’d just crossed the sidewalk through the little gate and had started walking up to the house itself when the door slammed open and Shane came flying out- literally flying as though a huge hand had scooped him up and flung him into the yard. </p><p>It was probably fortunate that he had landed on the wet grass instead of the concrete, but he still made a sound like he’d been sacked, players piling up in him on the field. </p><p>Before Rick could do anything, Daryl seemed to spring from the steps of the porch, landing next to Shane and cocking his fist. He hit with a muffled crack of a fist hitting a stubborn chin, and Shane rolled away, holding out one hand. </p><p>“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it sound like you--”</p><p>Daryl grunted and reached back to clock him again. Rick must have made some sound or something because  Daryl caught a glimpse of him and froze. </p><p>Shane tilted his head back, and the utter <em> relief </em>on his face made Rick frown, confused. </p><p>“Oh thank fuck. See? He came back. Now, get off of me, you fucker.” </p><p>Rick looked from Shane to Daryl, and back to Shane.  Daryl’s knuckles were bloody, and it looked like Shane had gotten him a good one in the eye. It had swelled up just enough that Rick knew it was going to turn into one helluva shiner. </p><p>Shane on the other hand, looked like he’d had his ass handed to him. Daryl kneeled on the wet grass, and sat back on his heels, staring at Rick with an unreadable look on his face. It was a look Rick had seen once before. </p><p>Shane scrambled to his feet. “Look, man. I’m an asshole. You can kick my ass later, okay? I found out that Daryl was staying here and I left that note in your locker. Planned on scaring you a bit- nothing too bad. What I said up there-” He stretched his shoulder, and winced,  gingerly touching his face. “Shit, man, I think you loosened a tooth.” He glared at Daryl.</p><p>The sound Daryl made could only be called a growl. To Rick’s surprise, he got up without a word to either of them and stomped back inside, shutting the door with a slam. </p><p>“Shit, man.”  Shane scrubbed his hand over his face. “This. . . this wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Daryl didn’t know I was fuckin’ with y’all. I don’t know why I said that. I opened that door and you two looked so <em> freaked </em>- I uh. I thought it would be funny.” </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>Shane licked the blood from his lip. “Look. Lori told me--” </p><p><br/>
Rick took a step away, unable to hide the bright spark of absolute panic he felt. Shane and his asshole football buddies had played ‘smear the queer’ way too much for him to want to be within five feet of him.  Given what Lori had probably <em> told </em> him, Rick had no interest in being on that list. </p><p>“No, aw fuck can you just.” Shane frowned at him, as though Rick moving away had somehow really upset him. He lowered his voice, looking around as though the weeds and rusty gate would somehow hear him. “Lori told me that you. . . that you liked. . . well. You know.” </p><p>Rick swallowed. He did know. As did Lori. And now, apparently, Shane.</p><p>“I don’t know why I said that, man. It was a dick move, and mean, and I deserved to get my ass kicked.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You were supposed to stay here and do some, I don’t know, some kind of lame confession of. . . whatever. . . and maybe get laid.” His teeth gleamed in the darkness, and Rick practically swallowed his tongue in shock. </p><p>“You.. set this up?”</p><p>“Yeah. The scaring you part just sort of happened. You were supposed to see him, and he sees you and. . .” Shane made a circle with his pointer finger and thumb on one hand and jabbed the first finger of his other hand in the circle, back and forth, crudely miming fucking.  He looked down at his hands and frowned. “Hey wait. How do two dudes---” </p><p>Rick stared up at the sky like the moon was somehow going to inspire him with something to get him way the fuck out of this fucking conversation while he turned eighty-three shades of red. </p><p>“Uh. Anyway. I’m just gonna. Uh. . .”  Shane pointed to the sidewalk, and Rick stepped out of his way, still not making eye contact. Rick heard him clear his throat. “I’m sorry, man. For what it’s worth.” </p><p>Rick nodded, still trying to get his blushes under control. That was the thing with Shane. He could be a real, colossal, grade-A, meatheaded, <em> dick </em>. But he’d also been his best friend for most of Rick’s life. </p><p>Rick rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little. “You’re an asshole.” </p><p>“I know. Oh. that reminds me. Here.” </p><p>Rick looked up. </p><p>Shane lobbed a cheap, plastic orange bag at him. Rick fumbled a little but caught it. It had a grinning jack-o-lantern on it and was carefully tied with a twisty tie. It looked like something Shane’s mom would hand out to trick-or-treaters. “Trick or Treat, man. And sorry again. Oh, and if he hurts you, I <em> will </em> kick his gonads up to his eyeballs.” </p><p>Rick blinked. “... Right.” </p><p>Shane tossed his hand up in a wave and walked out of the gate, onto the sidewalk, and down the hill. Rick waited until the footsteps had faded away before he untied the twisty tie and peeked in the bag. </p><p>Shane had gotten him. . . Astroglide? </p><p>He turned the small bottle over, noting the words ‘personal lubricant.’ Something clicked and he realized where he’d seen this stuff advertised before- in the back of a magazine. </p><p><br/>
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” </p><p>Rick shoved it in his back pocket and buried his face in his hands, trying to process the fact that Shane had just bought him something for. . .<em> ohmigod </em>. </p><p>Rick shook his head, trying not to imagine Shane buying this stuff with the rubbers he used with Lori (a fact that he’d lamented more than once). </p><p>The sound of childish laughter floated up to him from the town spread out below. The rain had stopped, but the wind still blew, sending fallen leaves and yard trash scuttling through the grass. </p><p>He licked his lips, nervously. Knowing that Daryl hadn’t been a part of the prank was a <em> staggering </em>relief. He turned and looked at the house. It still looked like Freddy Kreuger was going to pop out of a window any second, but otherwise, it was the same, dilapidated house. </p><p>Rick took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked up the porch. He didn’t bother knocking, instead opening the door and slipping inside.  He stopped for a second, listening; for what, he didn’t know. </p><p>The wind rustled through the house, and somewhere, something made a skittering noise There was no sign of Daryl.  Rick took another deep breath and began walking forward, moving towards the dining room that Daryl had taken over. </p><p>The door was open a crack, and Rick peeked through. The candles and the fire still illuminated the large room.  Something funny in Rick’s chest fluttered when he saw Daryl sitting at the table with his back to the door, elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Rick slipped through and shut the door with a small <em> click </em>. </p><p>“Hey.” </p><p>Daryl tensed but otherwise didn’t react. </p><p>“Uh, Shane left. He told me. . . well. He’s a dumbass.”</p><p>Daryl scoffed but still didn’t turn around. </p><p>“He said you didn’t. . . I mean, I’m sorry that I ran like that. It was a stupid move.”</p><p>Daryl turned slightly to face him. Rick’s heart gave another sort of desperate flutter when he saw the look on his face. Daryl looked. . . well. He looked awful. The shiner had started and it was obvious that he was not what Maggie called ‘a pretty crier.’ His face was blotchy, and there was smeared blood and dirt on his cheek. </p><p>Rick walked to the cooler and fished in it until he found some ice. His grandpa Dale always made sure he never left the house without a handkerchief, and it came in handy to wrap the ice in.  He crossed the few steps to Daryl and walked right up into his space, gently tilting back his head and dabbing at his face with the wet part of the handkerchief before settling it on his eye. From this position, Rick was taller, and it was weird to look down on Daryl’s face.</p><p>“I know why you believed him,” Daryl whispered, eyes fixed firmly on Rick’s chest. </p><p>Rick winced. “Yeah, well. Can you blame me?” </p><p>Daryl’s gaze jerked up to his, and it felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out, leaving him breathing a little faster, feeling awkward and nervous. </p><p>“No.” </p><p>Rick managed a small quirk of a smile. “Last time we were this close, our positions were reversed.” </p><p>Daryl blinked, and for a moment, Rick was sure that neither of them breathed as memories drowned them both. </p><p>
  <em> Rick was fuckin’ smashed. The beer had been flowing, and the seniors- Eugene, Abraham, and Rosita, had decided that the best thing to do to the little freshmen was to make sure that there was plenty of alcohol.  It was the last cast party of their senior year, and the party was probably the biggest in JFK High’s recent history. Eugene was a little weird, but his parents didn’t care if he had booze there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rick was surprisingly good at beer pong.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rick had drink after drink, and the whole night had been perfect. Lori had danced with him, and he was pretty sure she was going to say yes if he ever got the stones to ask her to prom if the way she had cuddled up with him was any indication.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But then Daryl had arrived.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rick was overjoyed. He’d immediately tried not to act as drunk as he was, and Daryl had found that kind of hilarious. Rick made sure to keep his jokes on point, and Daryl had stayed close, never going too far.  When someone had spilled something on him, Rick hadn’t thought much about pulling off his shirt and going to the bathroom to clean himself up. He’d stumbled and  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Daryl had laughed, and brushed some hair out of his face, and Rick? Well, Rick had drunkenly decided that it was a smart idea to lean forward and kiss him on the lips.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Daryl had been unmoving at first, then his mouth had moved on Rick’s, and Rick had moaned, shocked at his first real kiss. Rick had been just drunk enough to grin dopily at him. . . until he noticed the look on his face.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Daryl looked. . . furious.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He hadn’t said anything, but he’d left the party, ignored Rick for the two weeks left of school, and Rick hadn’t seen him for three years.  </em>
</p><p>“Last time we were like this, we weren’t alone.” </p><p>Rick knew his mouth was hanging open rather unattractively, and he managed to shut it. He swallowed hard.  “You never let me apologize.” He dabbed at Daryl’s eye. It was his turn not to make eye contact. </p><p>“Rick.” Daryl’s hand cupped his around the makeshift eye pack, halting his doctoring. He waited patiently until Rick met his eyes with his own. It was one thing to tell himself that this was a long-overdue conversation, but it was quite another to actually <em> do </em> it. Rick finally looked up, nerves making his hands shake slightly. </p><p>“You don’t need to apologize. Me leaving. . . that was all me. None of that was on you.”</p><p>
  <em> Wait, what?  </em>
</p><p>Rick frowned. </p><p>Daryl licked his lips, his blue eyes serious as he stared at Rick. His hair was long enough in the front that his bangs hid part of his left eye, and Rick tried and failed not to find it adorable. He blinked, making himself focus. </p><p>“Rick, you were. . . fifteen,<em> drunk </em>, and trying to get up the nerve to take Lori Callies to prom.” </p><p>Rick blinked, then blinked again, stymied. He shifted a little, dropping the ice pack onto the table. “I uh. That didn’t work out quite how you’re probably thinking.” </p><p>Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Don’t matter. I left, not because I was disgusted with <em> you </em> , but I was disgusted with <em> me </em> for. . . well. I kissed you back, man. I felt like a fuckin’ creep.” </p><p>“Wait. <em> Wait </em>. All this time. . . I thought. I mean. I. And you. . .” </p><p>Daryl’s smile was faint, but it was there. “I traveled, and I figured some stuff out.”</p><p>Rick tried to ignore the spike of jealousy he felt but figured he was largely unsuccessful if the look on Daryl’s face was any indication. “Lori and Shane are gonna get married. They’ve been together for forever. I er. . . did not go to prom with her, turns out.” </p><p>Daryl snorted.  His hand slid from Rick’s hand to his wrist, curling his fingers around it, squeezing gently. </p><p>Rick shivered slightly and watched as Daryl’s pupils darkened. </p><p>What had before been creepy and weird- a spooky old house with his old crush spending a week there to research ghosts was now rife with possibilities. </p><p>Shane had, in his completely dumbfuck way, gotten the two of them here. Alone. Together. (Rick was pretty sure it was a weird sort of payback for Rick buying condoms for him all those times, but whatever.) </p><p>The moment lengthened and stretched until Rick’s skin was almost buzzing with anticipation. This time, Daryl kissed him. His lips were soft, softer than lips had any right to be. Rick felt like an awkward idiot when he lurched forward, wanting more contact. Daryl though was very careful. He kissed him, licking at the seam of Rick’s lips until Rick opened his mouth, but keeping their bodies separated by his hand on Rick’s wrist, anchoring him. Rick felt his eyes drift shut. The scrape of stubble made him shiver, and the way Daryl worked his mouth over his made his knees weak. He made a low sound in his throat, and pushed slightly closer, leaning forward so that he was just the slightest bit off-center. Daryl’s mouth wandered over Rick’s cheek, to the line of his jaw and Rick forgot to breathe. </p><p>Daryl kissed him again, and Rick had to break away to gasp in a shocked breath, staring at him with wide eyes. </p><p>“Yeah?” Daryl cocked his head, checking that Rick was okay. </p><p>Rick was <em> more </em> than okay. He was so okay that there needed to be new levels of okay-ness to come close to what he was feeling right now.  He nodded, licking his lips, trying to chase the taste of Daryl’s mouth.  He took a step forward and kissed Daryl back, trying to kiss him as Daryl had just taught him. He knew he wasn’t as smooth, but Daryl seemed to enjoy the feel of Rick’s mouth on him. He pulled Rick closer, and  Rick bent his legs so he could sit on Daryl’s lap. </p><p>Daryl made a surprised sound, but his arms came around to hold him close. Rick had never been on anyone’s lap before and he found that it was shockingly intimate. He could feel the hard muscles of Daryl’s chest against his skinnier frame. Daryl’s breath was soft as he breathed heavily against his neck, and Rick could smell the faint traces of his cologne.  </p><p>They kissed for what felt like hours.  They kissed until Rick’s lips felt swollen and too hot, and his face was lightly marked from Daryl’s stubble.  Daryl kept his hands above Rick’s waist, and when Rick had tentatively run his hands up and down the muscles of Daryl’s shoulders and arms, Daryl had held him closer, kissing him deeply. </p><p>When they broke apart, it was to rest their foreheads against each other as they tried to get their breathing other control.  Rick felt like his skin was too small for all he was feeling like it couldn’t possibly contain everything he’d just experienced. </p><p>When a tinny-sounding alarm started beeping, Rick pulled away, blinking owlishly. He couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face, and when Daryl blinked open his eyes and grinned back at him, he felt ridiculously happy. </p><p>Daryl shifted slightly and turned off the alarm on his watch. “I have to go make the rounds. Make sure no one else is gonna jump out at us.” His eyes narrowed as he thought of what Shane had done, and Rick pouted a little. </p><p>“Oh my god, don’t do that thing with your lip. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” </p><p>Rick leaned forward. He had half an idea that he could somehow change Daryl’s mind, but Daryl just kissed him on the nose and shifted so Rick had to either stand up or fall on his ass. </p><p>He stood, his heart doing that swoopy thing again in his chest.</p><p>The nose kiss- that was some super cute bullshit right there. Rick ducked his head when his cheeks turned a bright, cherry red. He’d just spent God knew how long sucking on Daryl’s tongue, tasting the inside of his mouth. The nose kiss- that was like, stuff that couples did. It was affectionate. </p><p>Rick didn’t exactly know about all this stuff, but from what he heard, guys weren’t really. . . loving. Well, he supposed they had to be, somewhere, but all the magazines he’d been able to find to jerk off over (and there weren’t really very many if he was being honest. There were two, found in  the back of a filthy sex shop in some shitty area of Lexington, on a school trip that he’d been able to duck out of.) always showed the guys . . . fucking. Not being sweet. </p><p>Daryl bent down and grabbed something, and Rick’s eyebrows raised to see that it was a baseball bat. “Probably not gonna help too much against the ghosts, but if another one of your asshole friends fucks with us again, they’re gonna regret it.” He looked over at Rick. “You go ahead and get comfortable. Get a snack if you’re hungry. I won’t be long.” </p><p>Rick nodded, still blushing a little. Daryl started to walk, then turned and gave Rick a small, old-fashioned key. “Just in case. Lock it behind me.” He smirked and walked off. </p><p>Rick shook his head but locked the dining-room door.  No one was there to see him do the little jig in place. </p><p>He’d had such a crush on Daryl, for <em> so long </em>. When Daryl had run away from him three years ago, Rick had never, even for a second, entertained the idea that Daryl might have had a reason other than being disgusted. Now, looking back, he had been just a dumb kid, and he didn’t blame Daryl a bit. He wouldn’t want to make out with any of the freshmen he knew either. Rick took Daryl’s suggestion and got the food out of the backpack, putting it on the table. He saw the beer and frowned. </p><p>A thought occurred to him. Daryl had made a point of not wanting any alcohol. There could be other reasons, but part of him wondered if it was the fact that they’d kissed when Rick had been totally trashed that had contributed to it. </p><p>Daryl was what. 20? 21? Old enough that a few beers tended to be the rule rather than the exception.  Rick had not been unaffected either. He had been so ashamed by what he’d done that he’d done his best to just. . . not. Not feel anything. Not notice anything. . . Definitely not hook up with anyone. His parents didn’t understand why he’d gone from wanting to sort of date Lori to not dating anyone, ever. </p><p>Rick sure as shit wasn’t going to tell them. </p><p>But now? Daryl had been... He was so. . . Rick knew the goofy grin was back on his face as he danced towards the fireplace. </p><p>A gust of wind blew through the room, leaving Rick shivering and in the near-dark when the candles blew out. The grin fell off his face as he walked to the fire and bent to light another candle. He wasn’t sure where his flashlight was, and the fire had burned low enough now that it didn’t put out a lot of light in the huge room. </p><p>He made his way to the little bed that Daryl had situated, and sat down. He felt guilty for about a second before pulling Daryl’s notes towards him. </p><p>Daryl had been quiet in school but had always loved English and History. Daryl had once told him that because he was a Dixon, the school counselor kept trying to push him towards woodshop and the mechanical classes, but he’d always loved to write. Maybe even go to college. </p><p>There were three composition notebooks, full of Daryl’s slightly slanted writing.  Rick flipped to the last page and started reading over what looked like a record of his time here in the House.  Rick realized they were journals about the time that he started to feel guilty for invading Daryl’s privacy.  He started to shut it, but a word floated out at him that caused him to pause. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em> -Shadows. I don’t know if it’s the loneliness or wishful thinking, but I thought I saw what Amelia was so afraid of. I had the curtains open and the view was pretty gorgeous if you ignored the dead trees and the fact that I fucking hate this town. It would be something to just see him, even create a reason to “casually” bump into him.  I had just decided that was an absolutely fucking </em> <em> terrible </em> <em> idea when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked like all the shadows from god knew what outside had sort of. . . coalesced. Like when you dump oil on a waxed surface, and all the oil droplets eventually merge into one. I heard a tap against the window and had just about pissed myself when I realized it was a fucking </em> <em> tree </em> <em> -- </em></p>
</blockquote><p>The wind blew through the room again, and Rick noticed a weird scent with it, like leaves that had been on the ground too long. Sort of a sickly, rotten smell.  The wind fluttered the pages and pure stubbornness kept his candle protected.  He looked up, heart pounding. Rick saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and whirled, instinctually cupping the candle in his hands. He cocked his head, listening, straining his eyes in the dark room.</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWbjP_ahuB4"> Shave and a Haircut </a> on the door caused him to actually squeak in surprise. Rick stood up and dropped the journal down where it had been on the small, makeshift nightstand.  He bounded over to the door to unlock it, flinging it open to see a grinning Daryl leaning against the door jam. </p><p>“Miss me?” </p><p>Rick grinned. He kinda did, a matter of fact.  “Find any ghosts.” </p><p>“Unfortunately, no. This article isn’t going to make my publisher very happy.” He walked in, looking around, then turned to raise a knowing eyebrow at Rick. “Firelight, huh?”</p><p>Rick turned another eighty-seven shades of red, but tilted his chin up, trying not to seem like a stupid kid. “The wind took it out, but I'll take credit for whatever you're thinking.”  </p><p>Pretty sure that he was going to somehow damage himself with the amount of blood his blushes were producing, Rick fished in his back pocket for the small package that Shane had tossed him. He handed it over to Daryl, who took out the tiny bottle with a look on his face that Rick couldn’t quite interpret. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but it was obvious that Daryl did.  Rick stepped closer on legs that felt shaky and weird. He leaned forward and very, very slowly, so that Daryl could stop him if that’s what he wanted, and kissed him. </p><p>Daryl made a low sound that Rick had never heard before, and Rick found himself held closely enough that Rick could feel every ounce of heat in Daryl’s body. </p><p>The kiss changed, from sweet to so hot that Rick wasn’t sure if he quite knew how to keep up. Before, when he’d been on Daryl’s lap, it had been. . . nice. Not too heavy. It felt like they were making up for lost time or something, that Daryl was being certain not to take things too far or too fast. </p><p>Now, it was like a switch had been flipped. </p><p>Daryl’s mouth was hard against his, and Rick found himself giving back as much as he got, the two of them battling for owning the kiss. Daryl’s mouth was relentless, and Rick quickly found that when he tilted his head just <em> so </em> and nipped at Daryl’s bottom lip, it made the other man moan low in his chest. </p><p>“Wait. . . wait. Let me. . .” </p><p>Rick ignored him, brushing his lips against Daryl’s jawline in the way Daryl had done to him, loving the helpless shiver it produced. </p><p>Daryl took a step back, staring at Rick like he was starving. He watched as Rick licked his lips, then his gaze took in his chest as he gasped for air in the suddenly oxygenless room, resting on the bulge of his dick behind the denim of his jeans.  Rick watched as Daryl’s eyes drifted closed. His mouth formed the word ‘fuck,’ but no sound came out. </p><p>Rick felt strong then, like he was less a fumbling virgin, and more like someone that was attractive, and wanted. It caused him to straighten up a little, holding out his arms so that if Daryl wanted to look, he could look his fill. </p><p>“I’m going to stoke the fire, and I want you to go. . . go and lay down.” </p><p>Rick blinked. “The fire?”</p><p>Daryl’s lips quirked up in a small grin. “Rick Grimes, I’ve dreamed of you so many times in my bed that I want to be able to <em> see </em>.” </p><p>
  <em> Ohh. Wooow.  </em>
</p><p>Rick made a ‘by all means’ gesture towards the fire, and Daryl snorted a laugh as he turned to go deal with it. The small burst of confidence carried him to the makeshift bed. He kicked off his sneakers, toed off his socks, and was lying in the middle of the mattress by the time Daryl made his way back. His own dick was throbbing in his underwear, and it was a little difficult to concentrate. He was pretty sure he knew what he looked like, and hoped the image in his head was close to what the reality that Daryl saw. </p><p>The firelight wasn’t too bright, but it was enough to see as Daryl pulled off his concert tee and plaid vest,  flinging it towards the table. The firelight played over his muscles, of his shoulders, arms, and chest, and Rick sat up, desperate to touch. There was a scar above his ribs and over his heart, a tattoo of. . .. Rick shifted closer, peering at the small swirl of loopy writing. It wasn’t very large, maybe the size of his thumb. Rick sucked in a shocked gasp when he realized what he was seeing. </p><p>It was his name. </p><p>Rick jerked his gaze up to Daryl, who ducked his head a little as he knee walked towards him. He leaned forward and kissed it, then looked back up at Daryl. Daryl cupped his cheek and brought their mouths together, not saying anything. </p><p>Pressing their chests together made Rick desperate to touch what Daryl hadn’t let him touch before. Daryl’s body was built so different from his, larger and bulkier. He skimmed his slightly shaking hands over the musculature of his arms, over his chest, and back up to wrap his arms around Daryl’s neck as he pressed his body as close as he could. </p><p>Daryl took his hand and slowly brought it down the center of his body so that Rick’s hand rested on the hard line of Daryl’s cock. </p><p>Rick looked down, eyes wide. “Uh--,” He blurted, knowing that he was being dumb, but unable to stop himself. “This is probably pretty obvious, but I’ve never done any of this before.”  He could feel that Daryl’s cock was a hard line in his jeans, and Rick wanted to feel it for real, without the barrier of jeans in the way. But he also didn’t want to mess this up. </p><p>“Mm?” Daryl kissed Rick’s temple, then did something to the lobe of his ear that would have made Rick’s legs go out from under him if he hadn’t been kneeling. “There’s nothing you can do that I don’t want. But, if it’s too much, or I do something you don’t like, you gotta tell me. Promise?”  Daryl whispered, low before kissing him again. </p><p>Rick nodded so hard and so fast that he was sure Daryl would have been laughing his ass off if he hadn’t been so busy kissing him.  “I’m just afraid I’ll come too quick.”</p><p>They kissed again, and this time, Daryl pulled him up so that they were tangled together, their cocks brushing. Rick shifted, needing the friction, but winced at the feel of his jeans keeping him confined. Daryl brought his hands to Rick’s arms and took them from his shoulders, sliding his hand down and kissing Rick’s knuckles. </p><p>Rick frowned. He liked being in Daryl’s lap. </p><p>Daryl kissed the frown off of his face, and gently pushed him so that Rick was laying down on the center of his bed again.  Daryl unbuttoned his Levi’s and pulled them and his underwear off. Rick scrambled to take off the rest of his clothes, fully on board with being naked. </p><p>Rick had never really thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but there was something to be said for laying there naked, knowing both his nipples and cock were hard, while Daryl bent over him, staring down at his body with eyes that were so dark that only a small bit of blue remained. Rick slid his hands down his body and cupped his cock, and Daryl bent and held his wrist again, keeping him from touching himself. </p><p>“Can I put my mouth on you?” </p><p>Rick’s cock jerked against his stomach and he shivered, nodding. </p><p>“You’re gonna come quick, and I’m gonna love it, and then we can get to the good stuff.” Daryl bent and kissed Rick’s belly button. </p><p>“This isn’t the good stu--oh <em> fuck </em>.” </p><p>He scrambled to pull himself up onto his elbows so he could look down with wide eyes as Daryl Dixon calmly reached out and guided Rick’s cock to his mouth. Rick had a moment to feel his hot breath, before Daryl simply slid him inside, mouth closing tightly around him.  </p><p>Rick’s mouth fell open in complete, utter shock. </p><p>But when Daryl started to suck, Rick curled his body, falling back onto the bed. He was dimly aware that it didn’t exactly take long. One, two, maybe three pulls of his mouth and Rick was coming with a cry of Daryl’s name. </p><p>Daryl swallowed, and Rick was pretty sure he’d just seen Jesus. </p><p>“Look at you,” Daryl whispered. Rick felt slow licks on the shaft of his dick, and each one made him jerk in reaction. “You’re still hard, baby.” </p><p>Rick realized that he had covered his eyes with his forearm as he panted, trying to catch his breath.  He opened one eye, and he was indeed still hard, his cock red and flushed, wet from Daryl’s mouth. </p><p>“Is that. Uh, normal?” </p><p>Daryl kissed the tip and moved his way up Rick’s body, his hand sliding to his hip and rubbing gently. It was strangely calming, and Rick sighed, turning towards Daryl’s body again. </p><p>“There’s no ‘normal’- just whatever your body wants. How do you feel?” </p><p>Rick gave him a ‘duh’ look.</p><p>Daryl grinned. “I mean, do you feel less like you’re about to crawl out of your skin?” </p><p>Rick cocked his head, considering. He <em> did </em> feel less. . . antsy and less nervous. He still desperately wanted to try to do what Daryl had just done to him, but he also didn’t know quite how to phrase what he wanted. Some of that must have been on his face, because Daryl tilted his chin up, kissing him softly with a close-mouthed kiss. When Rick realized why, he was having absolutely none of that shit, and licked into Daryl’s mouth, tasting himself. </p><p>He broke away to answer Daryl’s question. “I feel. . . just like I got everything I’ve ever wanted.” He found some courage. “Mostly.”</p><p>“Mostly, huh?” </p><p>Daryl shifted again and Rick happily sprawled over Daryl’s body. His jeans were incredibly soft against the skin on Rick’s legs, and the feel of Daryl, still rock hard, spurred him into saying what he really wanted. </p><p>“I want you to fuck me, Daryl.” </p><p>Daryl jerked in place, shocked. He let out a long breath, then slowly dragged the nails of his left hand from the slightly sweaty dip of Rick’s back to the top of his spine and back down as Rick waited for him to reply.  Rick kissed his name on Daryl’s chest. They would probably have to talk about that at some point. Because the truth was Daryl was only gonna be here for a few nights. Rick couldn’t just fuck off and leave with him- he had a History test on Monday for Christ’s sake.  He wanted Daryl to connect with him. Daryl was the first person he’d kissed. He was the first person he’d come with. (well,<em> for </em>, but Rick wasn’t going to quibble.) He wanted Daryl to be the first man to be with him like that. </p><p>Rick slowly kissed down Daryl’s chest, over his belly, and over the waistband of his jeans. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his cheek against the thick line of Daryl’s cock. There was a small wet spot on the jeans, and Rick kissed it, then sucked on the material.  He had no idea what the fuck he was doing, but listening to Daryl curse like that was definitely working for him.  He looked up briefly to check that this was okay, and Daryl cupped his jaw again, rubbing his thumb over Rick’s lips before pressing so that Rick opened his mouth. </p><p>Rick had seen enough porn for this. He sucked on Daryl’s thumb, watching Daryl’s face while he did so.  Daryl unbuttoned his jeans one-handed and Rick pulled away from the other hand to nuzzle at the treasure trail there. </p><p>He was fascinated by the hair on Daryl’s body. He wasn't particularly hairy (in fact, Rick figured he had more body hair) but there was just something really. . . secret about doing this to someone else. Rick mouthed at what had to be the head of Daryl’s cock through the jeans, then helped him pull them down. </p><p>He wasn’t wearing underwear.  His cock was thick and curved slightly, flushed a dark red. His balls were furred and when Daryl spread his legs, Rick saw that they had tightened slightly. The tip practically drooled precome, and Rick couldn’t help but feel proud of that. </p><p>He was a few inches larger than Rick’s fist, but those few inches were all he figured he could get his mouth around. Rick licked at the precome. It didn’t taste weird, and encouraged, he started nibbling little kisses on whatever he could reach. </p><p>“Put your mouth on, me, baby.” </p><p>Rick shivered. It was the second time Daryl had called him that, and it made his stupid heart swoop in his chest as much as seeing his name tattooed above Daryl’s heart. Rick took a shaky breath and did. </p><p>The head of Daryl’s cock was soft and smooth. Rick kissed it, then licked it, then tentatively sucked on just the head, growing more and more confident as Daryl moaned above him. He started to move his fist so that when he brought his mouth over the head, and a little of the shaft his lips met his fist, gripping tightly. Daryl didn’t come, but Rick could taste how much he was leaking. </p><p>Daryl hissed and cupped Rick’s face with both hands, and Rick looked up the line of his body at him. Daryl’s eyes were half-mast, and his face was flushed a dark red.  The eye contact was easily the hottest thing Rick had ever experienced. His own cock, which up until now he had fairly successfully ignored,  twitched and Rick thrust against Daryl’s blankets, needing some friction. </p><p>“Rick. I want you to suck me, and jerk me off til the count of ten. You stop when I say, okay?” </p><p>Rick nodded, his mouth full of Daryl’s cock. </p><p>“One.”</p><p>Rick started slow. It was easy enough to keep eye contact. He started moving his fist faster, using the spit from his mouth to make sure it was wet. </p><p>“Two.” </p><p>Rick sucked a little harder.</p><p>“Three..ahh. Yeah. Faster now.” </p><p>Rick was always good at listening. He started to jerk him off faster, sucking on the little bump under the head of Daryl’s cock. </p><p>“Four.” </p><p>Rick tried to get more in his mouth, reaching down to cup Daryl’s balls.  Daryl’s whole cock jerked in his mouth, and Daryl cried out above him. When he spoke again, the number was through gritted teeth. </p><p>“Five.”</p><p>Rick gagged a little, then moved off, going back to sucking just the head.</p><p>“<em> Nnngh </em>. Six.” </p><p>Daryl cupped his face again, and Rick was starting to get the hint that he really, really liked watching him suck him off. </p><p>“Sev...en.” </p><p>Rick tried to think of what Daryl was seeing, and some of his confidence came back as he tried his best to make sure he looked as hot as he felt. </p><p>“Eight.”</p><p>Daryl’s balls had drawn tighter. He was leaking precome pretty steadily, and Rick pulled off for a second to suck in a quick gasp of air, watching as a long strand connected his mouth to Daryl’s cock. </p><p>“N-n-n. Nine!”</p><p>Rick squeezed, sucking as hard as he could. </p><p>“Ten! Ten!, stopstops<em> top </em>.” </p><p>Rick pulled off and watched as Daryl clenched his fists, his cock looking so full and ready that Rick had half a mind to go back and finish him off. </p><p>Daryl cursed, and cursed again, pulling himself up so that his back was against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. </p><p>Rick blinked a little owlishly, absently wiping his mouth. </p><p>They were quiet for a moment, then Daryl reached out one of his hands. “You were perfect. That was. . . fuck, you’re perfect.” Daryl kissed him again, keeping the kiss slow, but with enough heat that Rick moaned a little. Daryl pulled away and bushed a kiss over Rick’s swollen mouth. </p><p>“You still want me inside you?”</p><p>Rick nodded. </p><p>“Naw, Rick. I need you to say it.” </p><p>“What was that,” Rick blurted instead. “Why didn’t you want to. . . finish.” </p><p>“Mm. I’ll tell you later. But I promise you were very, very good.” </p><p>Being called good made something inside of him squirm, and Rick ducked his head, pressing his forehead to Daryl’s shoulder. He spied the little tube of lube and reached out for it. He put it in Daryl’s hand and nodded again. “Yes. I want you to be my first for this, too.” </p><p>Daryl shut his eyes, like hearing that was almost too much.  When he opened them, he looked determined. He adjusted Rick so that Rick was over his lap again. “Stay up on your knees for a second.” He spread his legs, which caused Rick to spread his. </p><p>“You’ve never done this to yourself?” </p><p>Rick shook his head. </p><p>“Fuck, how are you even real. Okay.” He breathed deep. “Okay, then I need to prepare you. Open you up.” </p><p>Yeah, Rick got that, thanks. He knew that it needed to happen, and while he couldn’t say that he’d spent a lot of time thinking of sticking things up his ass, he <em> did </em> spend an awful lot of time thinking of Daryl’s fingers, and found that the idea was not. . . unpleasant. </p><p>He still jumped at the first slick glide of Daryl’s finger against him, then shifted forward so that he could kiss Daryl. The position made his cock bob between them. Daryl’s was under him, and the heat of it made Rick want to just. . . God. He was really doing this. </p><p>The first finger was weird. The second was. . . weirder. </p><p>Rick kept himself distracted with Daryl’s mouth. Daryl kept kissing him, then pulling away to whisper things in Rick's ear, then kissing him again. Rick knew he was ready when he was rocking on Daryl’s fingers, his cock bumping against the muscles of Daryl’s stomach.  When Daryl took his fingers away there was a wet squelch that Rick didn’t expect, but he could honestly say he gave literally no fucks about. He felt open and ready and wanted this. </p><p>“You ready?” </p><p>Daryl’s voice was so low that Rick mostly felt the rumbling in his chest. He nodded and Daryl kissed him so deeply that Rick felt shivery and clingy. </p><p>“All right. You put one hand on my chest to brace yourself, then take my dick and kneel up. Take what feels good. Don’t push it, and don’t try to rush anything. We got all night and I want you to-- aw, <em> fuck </em>, Ri--ick!”</p><p>Rick was way ahead of him. The head of Daryl’s cock nudged at his hole, and it took a bit of wiggling, but when he lowered himself, the head slid inside and Rick had to pause, eyes wide as Daryl grabbed two handfuls of the blankets beside him. </p><p>“Put. Put your hands. On me,” Rick gasped. He hed of Daryl’s cock was much thicker than his fingers had been.</p><p>“Just a sec. Lift up.” </p><p>Rick did and felt Daryl put more slick on him. He felt the knuckles on his hand bump up against his balls, and knew that Daryl was also making sure his cock was slick. </p><p>This time was much easier. There was a brief stretch of pressure before the head pushed inside. And it felt so slick that Rick bit his lip and pushed down, crying out when he was fully seated in one quick movement. </p><p>Daryl grunted and his hands came up to Rick’s hips, grasping hard enough that Rick knew he’d have bruises tomorrow. </p><p>It didn’t hurt, but it was very. . . full. Rick tightened a few times, then moved his hips in a small circle. </p><p><br/>
Daryl made a punched out sound, and Rick leaned forward to kiss him. </p><p>When he did, he felt Daryl’s cock slide against something inside of him that made him gasp, eyes wide as he stared at Daryl.</p><p>Daryl’s face was sweaty and red, but his grin bright in the semi-darkness. “Surprise.” </p><p>Rick started moving, trying to wiggle so that he felt whatever the fuck that was again, but he couldn’t quite make it work. Daryl must have taken pity on him because he started moving with him so that they found a rhythm that worked for both of them.  Daryl wasn’t kissing him now, just breathing heavily through his mouth as they fucked. </p><p>Their grunts and moans mingled in the room, and Rick found himself sliding down hard enough that Daryl made that same shocked sound from before. Daryl’s hands on his hips pushed him where he wanted him. “I’m. . . I’m. . .aw<em> fuck </em>!” </p><p>Rick managed to get a hand around his own cock, and that was enough to give him the last tiny nudge he needed.  </p><p>“Oh god Daryl, yeah that’s. . . <em> nggggggh </em>. “</p><p>When he came, Rick saw stars. It was more intense than anything he’d managed by himself and beat the blowjob by a country mile. He could feel everything- the flitter of his hole around Daryl’s hot cock, The hot breath of Daryl’s gasp of his name, the heat of Daryl coming inside of him, filthy and wet. Rick shot so far between them, that some of his come ended up on their chests, and he weakly jerked his fist a few times until the last little bit dribbled out, mingling with the mess of Daryl’s come as it leaked out of him. </p><p>They were quiet for a few minutes until Daryl moved shaky hands from his hips to his back, hugging him tightly against him. </p><p>Rick smiled, feeling like his dumb heart had expanded as he hugged him back. A hug after what they did was just. . . somehow it was like the nose kiss from before. </p><p>Sweet. </p><p>It took a few minutes before what had been hot and sexy turned sticky and gross, and Rick made a face when he shifted onto his back. </p><p>Daryl went to the melting ice back and used the rag to clean Rick up, which Rick appreciated, even though the cool water was cold as fuck. </p><p>When Daryl made space for him in his bed, Rick tried to keep the goofy smile to himself. Daryl held him so that they were close, big spoon to Rick’s little spoon, both covered in blankets that smelled like them, He kissed the back of Rick’s neck before slowly stroked his fingers up Rick’s arm.</p><p>Rick hissed as he put pressure on the scratches from before.  Daryl froze then moved so he could see the three long marks on Rick’s skin. He had been sweaty enough that they stung a little, but truth be told, Rick had forgotten about them. </p><p>“Shane.” </p><p>Daryl was quiet for a moment. To Rick’s shock, he got up from the bed and fumbled for something near the makeshift nightstand. To Rick’s surprise, the hurricane lamp flared from before, causing him to blink in the sudden light. </p><p>“Shane told me he’d been waiting in the bedroom next to Amelia’s.” </p><p>Rick nodded, still trying to adjust to the light. “Yeah. That’s what he told me. He’d been--” Rick stopped mid-sentence, staring up at Daryl in shock. </p><p>Shane had been on the second floor, with the bedrooms.  Rick had gotten the scratches on the third floor. </p><p>“It couldn’t have been Shane, could it?” Rick whispered. </p><p>Daryl stared at him with wide eyes. For the first time that night, he looked scared. He slowly shook his head, no. </p><p>The wind curled through the room, sending the fire in the fireplace to flare up. The unlit candles on the table fell down, crashing onto the floor. Rick recognized the sickly smell of decay from before and he swallowed hard. </p><p>“I think. . . we can spend the rest of the night in a motel.” </p><p>Rick was already scrambling for his clothes. He didn’t think he’d ever gotten dressed so fast in his life, and he was including the time his parents had came home early from a movie and had almost caught him on the living room couch, tissues and lotion and all. </p><p>“Right.” Rick didn’t think Daryl would judge him for his voice being a little squeaky. </p><p>The two of them managed to get their jeans on before they started hearing the crashing sound from before. </p><p>Crash<em> thump </em> . Crash <em> thump </em> . Crash <b> <em>thump</em> </b>. </p><p>A low chuckle echoed through the room, sounding like a little girl’s mad laughter. </p><p>Daryl shoved his typewriter willy nilly in the large duffle bag.  Rick grabbed the baseball bat, looking around as the wind caused the fire to flare one more time. It caused the pages of his journals to flutter, and Daryl snatched them with his other hand. </p><p>The heavy, thick curtains opened as though someone had flung them apart. </p><p>Rick was pretty sure he caught a glimpse of a tall, dark shadow before Daryl grabbed his hand and they both ran out of the dining room, down the hallway, and out of the door.  They were halfway down the hill before they stopped for breath, staring at each other in disbelief. </p><p>Rick pulled away and pointed to Daryl’s composition notebook that Daryl still clutched in his other hand. In their panic, Daryl had just grabbed the book, bending it so that the pages were outside, and the cover inside. </p><p>In a large, blocky, childish scrawl was one word:</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>GOODBYE.</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p>They didn't go to a hotel. </p><p><br/>
Neither of them had much to say, but Daryl's death grip on his hand was just as tight as Rick's death grip Daryl's as they walked. Eventually, though, Rick realized that they had to go <em>somewhere</em>, so he took Daryl to his house. He'd never really had to sneak in his own house before, but he figured this would be the night to start. </p><p>Daryl only let go of his hand once they crossed the threshold. Rick missed the feeling of his fingers almost as soon as he let go. </p><p>Rick walked without speaking up his steps to his room. "You can make yourself comfortable. I'm just... gonna go shower." </p><p>Daryl nodded, and Rick tried for a smile. It wasn't much of a smile, but Daryl bent to kiss him briefly on the lips before turning to face Rick's bed. </p><p>Rick was pretty happy his parents had finally allowed him to get rid of the childish bunk beds he had. His double was comfortable and large, and he wanted nothing else more than to cuddle up with Daryl and quietly freak out. </p><p>The water came on with a hiss, and Rick stared at the marks on his arm with dull eyes. His mind stayed fairly numb as he washed, although he did blush when he made sure his ass was clean, wincing a little at the tenderness there. As much as he wanted to hide in the shower, he knew his dad would somehow just know if he used 'too much' hot water, and wake up out of a dead ass sleep to tell him.  neither Rick nor his mom really knew what constituted 'too much', but it was to be avoided at all costs. </p><p>He dried off and put on a pair of pajama pants, grabbing a pair of his dad's from the laundry room on his way back to Daryl and his room. </p><p>"Hey," he said softly. "You can borrow these. Go grab a shower, and I'll get us some food." </p><p>Daryl had been standing in the middle of his room, staring at nothing. He'd set up his typewriter, but that was it.  He jumped when Rick spoke, but nodded, grabbing the sweats and making his way to the bathroom. </p><p>Rick didn't waste any time, running softly downstairs and making two sandwiches and grabbing two sodas before coming back up to his room. Daryl had beat him back and had sat on the bed, toweling his hair dry. </p><p>Rick handed him his food and sat down on the bed beside him. Daryl took hold of his arm as he did, and Rick found himself staring dully at the faded scratches on his arm. At the House, they'd been angry and bloody. In his bathroom, they'd been scabbed over and healing.  Now, they were barely there. It looked more like a cat had got him than.... whatever that had been. </p><p>"Your parents gonna be okay with me staying over?"</p><p>Rick nodded, his mouth full of bread and ham. "I mean, you probably can't bend me over the dining room table, but they won't care." </p><p>Daryl snorted, but Rick noted that he looked thoughtful. Rick blushed. Daryl, of course, noticed him blushing and laughed. </p><p>It was surreal, sitting here like this. Rick took a deep breath, and said what he'd been thinking almost since Daryl had kissed him for the first time. "You're gonna leave. You got a life somewhere. An apartment, something. A job. I'm still in high school." </p><p>Daryl sighed.  "That's true." He took a drink of his soda and turned so that he was facing Rick. "But right now, I have an article to write. Then I'm gonna have to drive to Chicago and put it in her greedy little hands."</p><p>Rick's shoulders slumped.</p><p>Daryl continued. "It's gonna take me a few days, maybe a week to wrap things up. My apartment is just a room, and I just gotta make sure I'm paid up before I go." He shrugged. "I can be back here in time for Thanksgiving if you want."</p><p>Rick felt his heart do that whirly, swoopy thing. He wanted. God, how he wanted. He wanted so <em>much.</em> "You know, I don't believe in any of that ghostly bullshit."</p><p>Daryl laughed in his face.</p><p>Rick frowned, kissed his stupid, laughing face, and tried to make his point. "But, I think your editor is gonna lose her mind when she reads whatever you write for her. But your <em>audience,</em> I think they'll be interested in a 'nonbeliever's' perspective. I've got a camera, you know. My dad has one of those video recorders even. I know you don't like this town, but I think you have lots of reasons to stay." </p><p>Daryl's eyes widened, the lines of his face softened as he started to realize what Rick was actually saying. His fingers were shaking as they reached out to cover Rick's hand.  He brought Rick's knuckles to his lips, and kissed them, then pulled Rick close for a chaste brush of his lips. </p><p>"Yeah." His voice was rough with all the stuff he couldn't say. "Yeah, Rick. I do." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Are you sure you want spoilers?</p><p>🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇<br/>🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇</p><p>🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇</p><p> </p><p>🎃👻💀⚫🟠🦇</p><p>Okay.  As this takes place in the 80s and there is some homophobia  (I would call it non-explicit if that's even a thing?) There is also some internalized homophobia- Rick kisses Daryl at a party and when Daryl runs away, he's convinced he was disgusted with him.  Rick is pretty confused and has a moment where he's almost not understanding how 'two dudes' can be affectionate with other because all the shitty porn mags he's seen portrays the men together in a more violent, oversexualized way.  I think that's it. I'm very aware that my headcanon for Shane is kind of hand-wavey, but I maintain that he would still be a friend... an asshole, but a friend nonetheless and I am prepared to die on this hill. </p><p>There are a few jumpscare types of moments. </p><p>I also sort of crossed this with The Black Tapes, but not enough to tag as a fandom. But the 'upside-down face' stuff comes from that podcast- which if you like spooky shit you should totally check out and then write me fic for.</p><p>Sex stuff, no condoms, edging, and Daryl most assuredly has a kink for being Rick's first. Since Rick has a kink for being Daryl's anything, this works out well.</p><p>The good news, I finished this in time for NamoWrimo,  which I’m super excited for! See you at the end of November... 🤣🥰</p><p>EDIT: OH MY GOD. I was so worried about posting this 'at the stroke of midnight' that I didn't post the ending! DUH OMG.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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